only human // skz

36 . the only thing i can do ]

JUNE 25

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   'Never again,' Jisung said.

   'Never again,' Minho told himself. He even believed it, too.

   He thought he was leaving the sleepless nights and the midnight tears behind with his old bed frame, his old room. He thought he would continue slowly leaving loneliness behind; that his soul would never have to hide again. That he had a place now— somewhere he truly, mostly belonged and was wanted. That the rest of his days had full sun in store, now that the clouds had broken.

   But it'd been almost four weeks since Minho moved in and he had not seen hide nor hair of Jisung. All of a sudden, he went poof. Not texting back. Not coming over to see Minho, or anyone else for that matter. Not coming to visit Minho at work, when his shift was ending.

   Now Minho didn't know what to believe— except that Jisung had left because of him. That was the one thing he knew for sure. It took a week or two to set in, but gradually the idea became set in stone as he replayed the last moments with Jisung in his mind over and over, analyzing and searching for where he went wrong. Mostly at times like this: late at night, when he was lying in the dark, begging sleep to come and take him; put him out of his misery.

   Misery. Minho had thought it was over; one of those things he'd never have to feel again. It didn't really make sense that he was perhaps more miserable now than ever before, because even without Jisung, he wasn't alone. He was with Chan, with Changbin, with Hyunjin, and often times Felix—  all of whom he felt he was friends with now, knowing them better than he did when they were at college. Upon moving in, he talked with them (or just listened as they talked to him— which he was far better at). He often ate dinner with them. He hung out with them whenever they were lingering around the common areas of the house. And for the first week or two, amazingly, he didn't feel like he was bothering anyone by doing so, like he had just as much right to be there as anyone. He was just trying to be patient, waiting for Jisung, avoiding panicked thoughts.

   ...But when it finally set in and became clear that Jisung was gone— unreachable, with no sign he'd return— Minho's worst-case-scenario thoughts became unwavering truths that he was utterly convinced of.

    Everything had been good until Minho took his hand. Until Minho told him, with his lips shut and pressed together, how he felt. How he cherished Jisung and the time he spent with him; adored him and the light in his soul and beaming grin; thanked heaven for him and his kindness and his welcoming, warm embrace. All of this and more he hoped to convey in a simple gesture. But that gesture must have been what sent him running. It was the only thing that made sense. But it didn't make sense.

   Why would Jisung, who'd only ever tried to get Minho to accept and admit his true feelings, suddenly tuck tail and run from him as soon as he did?

   For quite some time, for many hours Minho spent alone, in the dark, staring at his ceiling, he found no answer, but eventually assurance crept into his mind until once again, he knew wholeheartedly: Jisung had left because Minho showed himself to him and Jisung found that he truly was... undesirable.